Universes of Science and Magick
by linnie kinda spinnie
Summary: A collection of stories about the God of Mischief and the Woman of Science. Mostly AU. Update: "Well, now. That could have gone better." Thing's don't go according to plan during the events of Thor 2, and now Jane is stuck in a strange world with the God of Mischief.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I kinda sorta have a huge boner for Lokane. Like, it started out as a guilty pleasure because of the story "World Under Siege" (which you should totally check out), and now it has basically become my OTP. Therefore, I present to you my collection of Lokane drabbles, one shots and short stories. They will mostly be AU, with varying degrees of ratings and plot, or lack thereof. As well, there will be varying degrees of updates. I can't promise how often or how quickly this will be updated since I am both lazy and fickle by nature. I will take prompts, but I cannot guarantee everyone's will be used, only the ones that give me Lokane boners. Oh, and can't guarantee the editing, I try my best, but if you see anything super obvious, please let me know.**

**Alrighty, without further ado, I present the first of hopefully many:**

**In which Jane gets sick and Thor gets some help. AU from the end of Thor. **

**Rated: PG-13ish to be safe, mostly for a fatalistic Jane **

Jane wonders when someone will ask her if it was worth it. Finding magic, exploring new worlds.

Meeting Thor.

She also wonders why she didn't think this would happen in the first place. When you have a relationship with a powerful man, of course he is going to piss off powerful people.

And finally, she wonders if real life is really this cliché.

Going after the good guy's girlfriend? Psh.

Of course, if it had been radiation poisoning or some new plague, SHIELD's best scientists and medical experts could deal with it. And had it been a curse or an enchantment, Frigga could deal with it. But, it was both. What Doom had created was an unholy blending of science and magick, deadly and strange and nothing anyone has ever had to deal with.

And damn genius. Jane is almost impressed.

You can't heal something that shouldn't exist. Magic and science were never meant to be mixed, despite what Thor believes. No, science and magic is not the same thing, but they do overlap sometimes. They twist and curl around each other, almost touching, chasing. But they never blend.

Well, yeah, until now. Inside Jane. And her body cannot handle it. Like, literally. It is killing her.

She is dying.

No one can really explain how it is killing her, or how exactly she is going to die. And her symptoms are erratic and strange.

Like random bouts of anti-gravity to blood lined vomit kind of erratic. Both of which exhaust her. She had hoped to at least do some more work on her theories before she died, get published again post-mortem, but she finds herself in her bed most days, strapped down just in case she floats up to the ceiling again.

She can't sleep— night terrors that result in moving furniture, like a damn horror movie— and she can't eat— it turns bloody in her mouth. She can't read or watch TV because it gives her awful migraines, which usually sets things on fire. Darcy had joked about calling a priest and had given her pea soup after the first time her cactus had burst into flame. Jane had laughed, because really, what else can you do?

Erik of course is frantic. He is contacting all his friends and colleagues, trying to find someone who can find a cure. But no one on Earth can know how to fix this. And Jane hates to admit this, but she is tired of Erik's plans to help her and his insistence that someone will find a cure. It just makes her more exhausted, having to fake hope.

Thor isn't much better. Gallivanting through all the Realms, trying to find any warlock or sorceress, or whatever the hell you call them, to come up with some potion or enchantment to help heal her. His heroism, something she had once upon a time admired, is just as bad as Erik's useless optimism.

Of the people in her life (and yes, there are few) the only one who Jane can really stand to be around right now is, surprisingly, Darcy.

Darcy can still make Jane laugh. Darcy is still casual with her. Darcy is still silly and selfish and doesn't treat Jane like a victim or a patient. Darcy doesn't have any useless hopes for her recovery.

Darcy is better at calming down Thor. Darcy is better at getting Erik to stop badgering Jane.

Jane thinks now that she really should have paid her or something. Or at least given her some iTunes cards. She may be useless at physics, but she is good people. And she will miss her.

And of course she will miss Erik, her almost-father.

Thor. How to describe how she feels about Thor.

Well, Jane has never deluded herself into thinking she would be marrying him, or having a long life with him. She is mortal, he is an immortal prince. Odin hates her, and no matter how much Frigga adores Jane, she will never be allowed to be Queen. And that's okay; she has always known this, even if Thor hadn't. That's what makes her sad. Thor has never really lost anyone, has never really thought he would because he and everyone on Asgard are practically immortal. It's probably never occurred to him that Jane would live through her mortal life and eventually die. He is a good man in every sense, but sometimes he has issues seeing past the next sunrise. Jane, though, has always been good at seeing past tomorrow.

Now that her tomorrows are limited, she is unsure how to feel. Tired, yes, sick, yes but is she afra—

"Jane," Thor. Voice soft, almost trembling. His voice always does that when he is with her. It drives Jane nuts, but she keeps her face neutral.

"Hi," her voice is a thin, pathetic thing, as is the rest of her. She had always been petite, but now she emancipated. Sharp clavicles, sunken cheeks, and trembling twigs for limbs. From tanned, smooth skin to a shade somewhere between yellow and grey, and rough from dehydration. Limp hair, glazed eyes. Maybe some time ago she would have cared what she looks like to Thor, and maybe she would have shrunk into herself to see the pity and slightly sickened look in his eyes every time he looks at her.

But, she finds she has little time to care for such things. Damn the yellow scabs around her mouth, the bursting veins in her eyes, or the strange rippling in her skin that kind of makes her think of worms tunneling under her flesh.

"How do you feel?" Thor asks, trying not to look anywhere but her eyes.

Dead already, she thinks.

"Better," she says instead, and she knows he knows it is a lie. He smiles, but it's a flimsy thing.

"I have news."

Of course he does.

"Oh?" But she plays along like a good little patient.

Thor pulls up a chair beside her bed, and takes her small, admittedly trembling hand in his. His hand is too hot against her already boiling from the inside skin, but she doesn't complain. She would feel awful if tomorrow she dies and hadn't let him hold her hand one more time. Besides, she wants to remember what it had been like to feel his skin against hers.

Before of all this, when life had been crazy but good, strange but filled with warmth and discovery, Jane had thought that Thor felt like a mixture of sunlight and grass. Like summer. Sweet and warm. And maybe it makes her sad that all she can feel is fire and stinging when she touches him. She thinks that Thor might kill Doom if he knew that the science-magic made it almost unbearable for her to let him touch her. She thinks that maybe she wouldn't mind, because how can someone be so cruel?

But she doesn't say anything because she is too tired to hate Doom or pity herself.

"I have found him at last Jane," Thor is saying, and something new vibrates in his voice. It is more than hope, because that is always there. This time it sounds like sureness. Like miracles.

Jane doesn't believe in those.

"I have searched long and far, and had nearly lost all hope, " oh his eyes are the ocean and the sky and expectant love, "But I finally found him, and convinced him to see you." His smile is broad and white and too much for her. She feels a migraine coming on.

However, she has her part to play, so she sighs, "Who now, Thor?"

He makes a face, like he can't believe she has forgotten, or like he can't understand why she isn't as happy as him. And oh, is that a flicker of disappointment? The women on Asgard would fight this, wouldn't they? Sif, with her slick black hair and her lupine face (ravenous, aggressive but so beautiful) would hardly let a little sickness keep her down. Even fair Frigga is far too brave to let herself fall victim to something so frail as hopelessness.

But what is Jane but mortal?

"My brother, Jane," Thor says, "I have found Loki, and he has agreed to see you, to find a way to help you."

Well, now this is interesting. Jane finds herself strong enough to feel curious. She has never met him, face-to-face at least. After he fell from the Asbru Bridge, Frigga had been sure he was still alive, and Thor had been searching for him on and off ever since.

"Really? Loki wants to help me?"

Now Thor looks slightly uncomfortable.

"I have never known what my brother truly wants, or what his motives are. I cannot be sure this is not some trick," and then he looks her in the eye, and she is glad the tunneling in her skin is distracting her from the pain his eyes might have caused, "But what can I do, Jane? He is our last hope. If he cannot help you, I believe that no one else can."

He really does have a flair for the dramatic. Darcy told her that she thinks it's an alien thing.

"But what can he possibly do?" Jane wonders, mostly to herself but out loud so Thor can answer for her.

"My brother's magicks are boundless, Jane—"

"Oh, now, you flatter me, _brother." _Smooth sibilance; softly sardonic, and impeccably eloquent. She has never heard a voice like that.

Jesus, she has never seen a face like that either.

Sharp angles and pale skin, and hair like black feathers. Beautiful, ethereal, devastating and cruel. Jane cannot help but feel like his face wasn't always so ruthless, or his eyes so ravenous. She thinks he might have been something softer and very strange, but fascinating.

Now he is transfixing and sad to look at. And when his eyes sweep over her, eyes the colour of magicks, the corner of smile twitches for just a moment, almost droops, but then quickly recovers. Jane knows then that he cannot help her. Or won't, she isn't sure which yet. She won't say anything though, for two reasons.

One, she would rather not create another fight for the not-brothers.

And two, she wants to speak with this impossible and captivating creature.

Thor stands, and clasps Loki on the shoulder. Loki doesn't flinch, but his disdain is palpable.

"Thank you for coming," Thor murmurs, looking into his adopted brothers eyes, searching them for some sign of deception, but Loki has long mastered the art of revealing nothing.

"It's nothing," Loki waves him off, pulling back enough so Thor's hand falls off his shoulder.

"No, Loki, it is not. You do me a great kindness in agreeing to see my Jane," Thor insists. Loki's eyebrows quirk up slightly when Thor says 'my', but settle back down before Thor can see. Jane saw, though, and she finds still has enough strength to wonder.

But Loki is already walking around Thor and to the side of her bed, and Jane notes that his stride is as smooth as his voice. He is effortless in his grace.

"Ah yes, the little patient. I do find myself feeling curious about the mixture of science and magick that courses through her veins. Perhaps after I am done here, I shall ask this Doom fellow how he managed to accomplish such a feat."

At the mention of Doctor Doom, Thor growls, his face becoming leonine with his anger. Jane thinks that the anger is two sided; one side is at Doom for daring to hurt Jane, and the other side is at himself for not being able to protect her. Early on in her sickness, Jane had felt that same anger. Anger for being used as a pawn, and anger at Thor for breaking his promise to always protect her. She knows her anger was unfair, but emotions never are, and besides, she is past those kinds of feelings.

"That _viper, _" Thor says, "Is locked up and will never feel sunlight on his skin again for what he has done. He will receive no outside contact again. He will rot in shadows and solitude."

Loki puts his hands up, "I meant no disrespect," but his smirk says differently. Thor stares at Loki for a moment, still fuming, but then his eyes are on Jane again, and the anger dissipates into a pitiful sort of desperation.

"Loki," his voice is so soft for such a big man, "Please. Look my Jane over. Try to find something— a way to help her."

Loki manages to sober, putting away his smirk for now, and he nods solemnly.

"Leave us," Loki is still imperious, for a fallen prince. Thor makes a face and opens his mouth to argue, but Loki beats him to it, "I can hardly concentrate with you breathing down my neck, brother." Thor nods, but before he leaves, he comes to Jane side and presses his mouth to her forehead.

It scorches so hot it makes her stomach churn, but she still she smiles and promises to see him soon. Thor walks out the room, and both mortal and god watch him go. The silence after is loud. After a couple beats, Loki looks down at Jane, his face unreadable. Jane sits up slightly on her bed, and she stares up at him, and feels no useless embarrassment for giving him a thorough once over.

He is wearing some weird leather- armor thing, and its gold black and green, and holy hell does it suit him. He is nearly as tall, if not more so, as Thor. But unlike Thor who is all animal brawn, there is a sculpted quality to Loki. He is lean, sinuous as a snake and graceful as a fox. And just as clever. Intelligence radiates from him, accompanied with sharp wit. He is strong, but not in a savage way, like his brother, but lithe and stealthy. It occurs to Jane that were she healthy, she would be grudgingly attracted to this man-god-thing. As it were, her libido has all but fizzled.

But she can admire.

Loki takes her in just a thoroughly, but his perusal of her physical entity is short; he takes longer in studying that internal part of her that cannot be viewed with something as simple as ultrasounds or the like. No one has ever seen this part of Jane, and she would blush if she could. It's like being naked.

Neither of them speak for a while, but in the end, it is of course Loki who breaks and all out crumbles the silence.

"You know, don't you." A statement, and even though she thinks he knows what he is talking about, she asks what anyway. Loki sits down in the chair, reclines rather, and steeples his fingers under his chin.

"You know that there is no cure," he is blunt when he tells the truth, apparently, "And that you are already more than half way dead."

"Yes." But she is blunt too. He inclines his head, his overlong hair falling to one side. He regards her in a way that a child watches spider. Fascinated but wary, and ultimately in control. Oh how easy it would be for him to squish her.

Glory, glory, what a helluva way to die. She wonders if death by Loki is considered a warriors death, and if there is a Valhalla, will she enter its gates.

But while she wonders, she also knows that Loki won't kill her. For how much crueler will it be to simply let her fade away before his not-brothers eyes? And he is a cruel creature, oh he is.

"You haven't told Thor," he observes, "Do you really believe that is kinder?"

"Dunno, but it's easier. I'd rather not have to say goodbye to him everyday, or have him pledge his never ending devotion to me for all time or whatever."

When did she become this cynical thing?

Loki seems muse over the same thing, because there's that eyebrow goes again. She wishes she could do that. For such a smooth face, he is very good at expressing himself with it.

"There is no hope in you then? Has the fire I have long heard of finally winked out?"

Jane shrugs, distracted by this so-called "fire" of hers, and who told him of it. Certainly not Thor. Thor has never seen her as fiery; warm, sure, but mostly sweet and soft and welcoming. Never hot or fierce. And how could he, when the women of his home world are the literal representation of female ferocity and passion.

"I just don't really see the point in fooling myself. I'm gonna die whether I fight it or not."

Loki watches her face for a moment, and then he leans toward her, so she can feel the subtle waves of coolness coming from his skin, and oh it feels good against her stinging skin.

His voice is velvet and silk when he says, "Oh Jane Foster. What has this world done to you, for you to give up so easily?"

It is the first time he has said her name, and maybe it is his temperature, but she shivers. And maybe that is why she decides to get into an argument with the God of Mischief.

"You've got it wrong Loki," he said her name and owns it, so she does the same, not that she will keep it long anyway, "I haven't had a hard life or anything like that. It's just— Look," she looks into his magick eyes, a small smile on her used-to-be pretty mouth,

"All my life, all I've ever wanted was to have my own lab with a giant telescope. To have a couple books published. To prove that my theories aren't stupid or childish. To be right, and I like being right about everything," she thinks maybe Loki would have smiled at that if he hadn't been trying so hard to school his features.

"And I did that, I have all of that. So it's not like I have regrets or whatever, or a bucket list to complete," Loki frowns, so she explains, "A list of things I want to do before I die. Most people have them." he nods his understanding so she goes on,

"It's not like I'm not sad, o-or afraid, because I am," don't cry, don't cry, "It's just— What am I leaving behind anyway? Someone will continue my research. Darcy will find someone else to pester. Erik will— Well Erik will be devastated, but he is resilient."

"And what of my brother?" Loki asks quietly, "What of Thor? Does the idea of him pining for you until the end of his days not bring you sorrow?" Is that— resentment?

Oh, he thinks she is heartless.

Sometimes, she thinks so too.

"That's a little melodramatic, don't you think?" She almost laughs when Loki looks personally affronted, "I mean, I was always going to die way before him anyway. He'll live like, what, another five thousand years-ish? And me, I would have lived another sixty or so. We were never gonna be together forever."

Then, something changes in Loki's eyes. Jane can't be sure what, but his causal curiosity sharpens into something else. And the intensity may have frightened Jane in another time. Now, it only intrigues the still analytical part of her. What could possibly make him look at her like that?

He attempts to hide his change with biting sarcasm.

"What, no dreams of wedding bells or crowns of gold and magick for fair Jane Foster?"

It takes great skill to make an insult sound like a poem, and Jane is almost impressed.

"Nope. Never."

"Never? And why is that? Is Thor, God Thunder, Champion of the Realm Eternal and Lightning King—" that's one she has never heard before— "Not good enough for you?"

She laughs, and his eyes narrow at her tenacity, "Not at all. You really have it all wrong, don't you? I never ever thought about things like marriage or anything like that because I am not cut out to be queen of anything, least of all Asgard. And, truth be told, I don't want it."

"It?"

"A throne, a husband, children. I am too dedicated to my work, and too selfish for anyone else to be first priority. I would make a pretty crappy ruler," and then she smiles at him, and whispers, "And don't tell Thor this, but I'm pretty sure Odin hates my guts."

Then Loki smiles, and when that smile turns into a soft chuckle, Jane feels her veins quicken. This is not a cruel laugh, there is nothing mocking in it. It is gentle and true, and it makes her wish she knew him before he fell.

"Yet another thing we have in common, Jane Foster," and when he says her name, it is polite, and maybe, if it's not just delirium, affectionate.

"Another?" she plays along because this is the most carefree she has felt in a long time.

He leans back into the chair slowly, all languid ease, and replies, "Well now, let me see. You and I both are driven by curiosity and the urge to prove others wrong. People have doubted us all our lives, have underestimated us. Undermined us because we are smaller, or weaker, or different," his voice changes slowly; it grows husky with something, a feeling or a memory, his eyes distant, "We are both too clever for own good, and we set impossible standards for ourselves. We are selfish in all our pursuits for enlightenment. And, both of us will have died before our time," his eyes refocus, intent on her, his wistfulness contagious.

"Both of us dead? But you're immor—"

"Believe me, Jane Foster, I am not. I will die, and it will be violent and it will be too soon, and it will be after betraying everyone I ever cared for," Loki's eyes flare, and his long fingers tremble, so he clenches his fists, "Gods are no more able to escape Fate than mortals are."

Jane is quiet, because honestly, how the hell do you respond to that? Loki himself seems unsure of himself for a moment, like he has no idea why he has just told her all that, and she shares the same feeling. They don't know each other, so why is she more honest with him than she is with Thor or Erik? She watches Loki swallow, the pale column of his throat bobbing as he gathers his wits about him again.

"I believe we should return to the task at hand," his voice has no colour, so Jane returns just as blandly,

"And what's that, my death? How you won't save me?

"Won't?"

"Can't"

"Do you truly believe that?" he tilts his head, regarding her closely. She stops. Everything stops.

"Or is it simply…_ easier _to believe that you will die?" he goes on, and Jane opens her mouth, then closes it, and his smile is sharp.

"Come now, Jane," no _Foster _this time, "Did you really think I, the most powerful sorcerer in all the Realms, could not heal you?" he tsks at her, enjoying her flabbergasted expression. Boy, this guy is mercurial. Sharing some feels with her one second, then lording his power over her the next.

Issues.

"Why— why would I think it's easier to die?" Jane asks, her voice cracking. His smile is a knife covered in honey; sweet and sharp and deceptive.

"Oh Jane. Lovely, clever Jane," he breathes, suddenly kneeling beside her bed, his hand in her hair, not tugging but holding, possessing, "You are too smart to be so naive. You must know that if I were to heal you, there would be a price to pay," he leans toward her, all menace and amusement, his mouth beside her ear, "And what a heavy, heavy price it would be."

She is panting, and that is painful, because her chest feels like it is being crushed, and her heart feels like it is leaking. She thinks, fleetingly, that perhaps she is not too tired to feel fear after all. But she won't ask him, she won't, she won't—

"Jane," he whispers, _moans_, "Lovely, lovely Jane. Won't you ask me? Won't you ask what the price is?"

No, no, no, no—

"What's the price?" Dammit.

She feels him smile, and then he pulls back so he can look her in the face. One of his pale, pale hands reaches out and cups her cheek. If she leans into the touch, it is only because his skin is blessedly cold against her own stingingly hot flesh.

"The type of magick that I would need to perform to heal you is deep, and it is dark. I would be granting you a part of my own life force. Only a small amount, hardly a flicker, but because of how quickly you mortals blink out, it will have a strong effect on your own life force," he pauses, for dramatic effect, and because he is an evil bastard who wants her to ask.

Aesir are so dramatic.

"What effect?"

If his smile was a knife before, it is now goddamn machete, splitting his whole face into a picture of delight and a strange kind of savagery. His fingers trail over her cheek, softly, but there is a possessiveness to it. No one has ever touched her like before. Donald touched her casually, like he had to. Thor used to touch her like she was everything he needed and that he needed to keep her glowing and real. But Loki touches her like she is already his, that she has always been his, and like he won't let her go.

And maybe that is true, because next he says, "Your life force will be mine, Jane. I will control it as long as I am alive. You will live as long as I will, will be as healthy as I am, and will die when I do. I will have the power to keep you alive or let you die. You will not so much be healed, because I cannot truly take the sickness away, but rather, as long as you are with me, you will be healthy and strong."

Jane processes, and processes and processes this information like the good little scientist she is. She cannot profess to know much about magick, nor does she necessarily wish to, for science is her truest love, so she turns around the information into something she will understand.

So, basically, Loki will be like chemotherapy; he will keep her alive and well as long as she is with him, but the moment she stops being near him, or he stops supplying her with health, she will grow sick again and die.

So, basically, Loki is like a drug, and she will go through withdrawal without him.

So, basically, she is screwed. Die, possibly horrifically, or live, but belong to a sometimes madman.

Rock and a hard place indeed.

He sees her apprehension, and he would not be called Silvertongue if he weren't persuasive.

"It would not be so bad, clever Jane. I would show you other worlds; take you farther than any Midgardian has ever been. Think of it, Jane. The things you would see, the people you would meet. Is this not what you've always wanted? Discovering new worlds, learning all there is to know? Oh, Jane, imagine the sights."

Both hands take her face, and he leans into her until he is inches from her, and his eyes close as he imagines the worlds he will take her to. He is more serene than she has ever seen, and he is breathtaking.

In a husky, almost breathless whisper, "I will take you to Alfheim, to the rivers and waterfalls of liquid starlight; to Mullspellheim to find and tame the dragons and the fire pixies; to Vanaheim and the courts of sorcerers and mages, and the fields of blue flowers that will send you into the sweetest of dreams…"

As he goes on, Jane is transported with him as he tells her about all the marvels of the nine realms, and longing blooms into her heart, stopping the leaks.

It sounds wonderful, it sounds like dreams and fairy tales. It is everything Jane has wished for but has been too afraid to hope to find. And it sounds far too good to be true.

"That can't be it," she says, and Loki opens his green, green eyes, "There has to be more."

"There is," Loki agrees, pulling his face away, but keeping his hands on her face, "You will not be permitted to see Thor again, or return to Midgard. Your friends will know you chose me over them, a life with me over death, which, to Thor especially, will seem a very craven thing to do. You will be deemed selfish, unwise, and perhaps evil to choose the wicked Loki over the possibility of Valhalla."

"Is there even a Valhalla?" she has to ask, because he will know. Loki looks at with an expression that could be sadness, but not quite.

"Not for people like you and I, Jane Foster. You are lovely and brave and clever, but a warrior you are not."

She nods her understanding, but somewhere in her disease wracked self, it still hurts. To be craven, to be driven by selfish wishes and desires.

But she doesn't have to be. She could choose to face her death with a brave face; to be surrounded by loved ones in her last moments. To say goodbye to Erik, to hug Darcy, kiss Thor.

Tell him she loves him, because if they had more time, it might have been true.

"Will you… give me some time to think it over?" Jane asks, even though she thinks she knows the answer. Loki lips thin and he shakes his head.

"You have very little time, and I have very little patience. You must make your choice now. A life belonging to me, filled with adventures, but with scorn from your loved ones. Or, enter Hel as true and virtuous and good."

What a choice.

"How do I know you won't just grow bored with me, and decide to let me die? Cut off my supply of life? "Jane demands, and her anger fuels another bout of tunneling in her skin, setting her veins on fire, and it feels like dying. She feels her strength, what little she has, slip from her, and she hunches into herself, unable to fight against the waves of awful hybrid power in her.

"You don't know Jane, I doubt you ever will. You will live a life on edge, at the mercy of my many whims. However, I would not offer this kind of magicks to someone who will easily bore me. You are clever, quick and inquisitive. And," now he smirks, and lets his eyes peruse the shaking, thin flesh and brittle bones body under the covers, "You are rather fair, for a mortal. I'm sure you and I will come up with many diversions, sweet Jane."

If she were strong enough, she would feel a flare of anger. And if her libido was working, mostly likely a wave of desire, because as established, Loki is fair beyond measure. But just because he has a beautiful face and body, does it mean she could survive spending the rest of her life with him? Especially since they now both know he is fated to die violently, and Loki himself is mercurial and ruthless by nature. Would she really be saving herself, or putting herself into the hands of simply another Death?

"What is your decision, Jane Foster? Life, or Hel?"

And Jane wonders what the worth of her own life is, if she were to choose the selfish route.

And wonders what the worth of her death is, if she were to meet it with bravery and truth.

And as she looks into the face of the man who will either save her, or damn her, Jane Fosters wonders.

END

**If you have the time or inspiration, please drop a review, criticism or prompt. Have a lovely day and thanks for reading!**

_**linnie **_


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! Quick note, ye readers. This is rated PG-PG-13 for language, that's about it. I would consider this pre-romance, and it is pretty light, not nearly as dark as the previous one shot. Also, this one is a little longer, with a little more plot than the last.**

**By the way, thank you everyone who reviewed for such encouraging words. I hope you enjoy this one. **

**Oh and sorry if I get some things wrong from the movie, I haven't seen it in awhile, so I was going by memory. But that's what AUS are for, right? Inaccuracy, huzzah!**

**Disclaimer: Oh the things I would do if I owned these characters, but alas and alack, I do not.**

**Summary: In which things in Thor 2 do not go according to plan. **

"Well, now. That could have gone better."

What an understatement.

They watch the hulking, black ships set off, preparing to sail through the Realms to reach Earth.

From what Jane can deduce, this is what was _supposed_ to happen: Loki was to have tricked Malekith by creating illusions, spewing lies and doing all those things he seems to excel at. Then, Malekith was to have drained the Aether from Jane. And then, Thor was meant to do what he does best, that being smash the bad guys with his hammer and save the day.

This is what happened instead.

Loki "cut off" Thor's hand, threw Jane at Malekith (and, _yeah_, that hurt) and then asked for a front row seat to watch Asgard burn. Also, he called himself Loki of Jotunheim, whatever that means. And so, Malekith took the Aether from her, which is a yay, because now it won't kill her.

But then things kind of, sort, completely, went wrong. The instant the Aether was out of Jane, Malekith shot it at Thor, which instantly knocked him out. Jane had screamed and tried to go to him, but Loki grabbed her from behind, and picked her up while her legs kicked at the air. Then Malekith bowed and thanked Loki, but told him that he "trusts him not" (his words exactly), and that they would take the son of Odin so he may watch the destruction of Midgard, and the rest of the Nine and know "true despair". To add insult to injury, Malekith allowed Loki to keep the "woman-child" for his own amusement.

Like, seriously? Woman-child?

Clearly, this guy has serious issues.

Anyway, the dark elves brought Thor on their alien ship thing, and left Loki and Jane stranded on this stupid planet.

So, at Loki's almost amused, almost amazed statement, Jane starts to kick and holler in his arms.

"Yes it bloody could've!" She's been in England too long.

Loki looks down at her like he has only just noticed that he is holding her, makes a face, and then abruptly drops her. She plops onto the dark, sandy ground and lands ungracefully on her back, but she doesn't miss a beat with her yelling.

"What the hell happened back there? Why didn't you do anything, why did you just let them take him, why didn't you fight them or—"

"Do you often ask such incessant and inane questions, because if so, it is no wonder your colleagues do not take you seriously. Or, at least that is what your mentor told me," he doesn't even have the decency to look at her, or sound affected. He just stares after the ships in the distance, his tone distracted and his expression indifferent. Jane opens her mouth, outraged at the mention of Erik and her work (because that is so not true!), but then closes it again and glares at him. She takes a couple deep breaths, and sits up straight.

"Are you going to answer any of my questions?" she asks more calmly, but still glowering.

"Hmm?" He still doesn't look at her.

Jane grinds her teeth for a moment, then repeats, "Why didn't you do anything? Why did you just—just let Malekith take Thor?"

Finally, Loki looks at her, well, more like looks down his nose at her. He quirks an eyebrow, and Jane has the strongest urge to just rip it off.

"And what, pray tell, would you have had me do?"

She flounders, her hands cartwheeling in the air, as she tries to think.

"I-I don't know. Fight them, or—"

"Myself, against how many again?"

"I could've—"

Loki barks with laughter, throwing his head back slightly, and Jane's glare deepens to the point of discomfort.

"Oh yes, and what a team we would have made, Miss Foster," he exclaims jovially, turning his jackal grin on her, "I would take one half on with my daggers, while you badger the rest to death. Really, what a sight that would be."

"You really don't think you could've taken them on?" Jane is now struggling to her feet, but she is still weak from the Aether, and the sand is slippery.

Loki puts a hand to his chest, "Why, Miss Foster, what confidence you have in me. I am positively flustered by your unending faith, truly," Then his mocking expression slips into a sneer, and he spits, "You mistake me for my brute of a brother. Thor may be able to single handedly take out an army, but I, however, cannot. I'm afraid I have not the skill set for it."

"What, magick? Intelligence? Sarcasm?" Jane bites back, finally standing, and Jesus, has Loki always been this tall? She only comes up to his chest.

"You should know more than any," he says in quietly, "That intelligence is not often valued by others. And perhaps if I had not been held in a cell for the past year, and had been fed more regularly, my magick would have been stronger. As it were, I am only able to conjure simple illusions, which are hardly effective in a fight."

Jane's eyebrows slowly unclench, and her muscles slowly untighten. She sighs long through her nose, and stumbles a step away from Loki, then covers her face with her hands. Muffled, she says,

"I know. I'm sorry. Nothing could be done." Usually she hates admitting she is wrong, but right now everything is so hopeless that it hardly seems to matter.

"It's just… God, everything is so screwed up. They took Thor, and God knows that they are doing to him now, and they are heading for Earth—my world! —And no one is prepared for them and there is no way to stop them and we are trapped her and—"

She peeks through her hands to look at Loki, but finds the spot in front of her to be empty. Her hands fly off her face, and she looks around frantically.

Oh shit, there is _no way _he is just leaving her here. Nuh uh.

She spots him half way up a hill several yards away, and holy crap can he walk fast, Jesus.

"Hey!" she yells, picking up her dress as she starts to run, "Wait! Dammit, wait for me!"

He doesn't even turn, just continues walking up the freaking hill at a steady pace. Cursing profusely, Jane hurries after him, tripping as she goes. By the time she reaches him they are almost up the hill, and Jane is sweating and panting more than a sinner in a church.

"Wait," she cries hoarsely, "Where—_Jesus Christ_—where are we going?"

"Oh, is it _we_ now? Funny how that works," Loki spares glance at her over his shoulder, but continues at the same pace.

Huffing, Jane takes the bait, "What does that mean?"

"Nothing, really, other than I find it interesting how quickly your loyalties shift. Now that Thor is gone, you no longer have your golden champion, so now you have no choice but to put your trust in me. Are all humans this pathetically dependent?"

"First of all, I don't trust you, not for a second," she pants as she struggles to keep up (dammit, she hates dresses, she will never wear one again), "And second, I will not apologize for being born human, or for not being brawny. There are more important things in life than being strong."

"Tell that to Thor," Loki mutters, stopping so suddenly Jane bumps into his back and nearly lands on her butt again. That said, she manages to stay on her feet, only wobbling slightly. Loki looks around the bleak landscape, narrowing his eyes. Searching.

"What are you looking for?" Jane whispers, although she isn't sure why. Loki gives her an impatient side-glance, and then turns left and starts toward what looks like a cave. Jane sighs, loud and exasperated, but follows after him.

"Okay, can you just tell me one thing? Just one?" Jane presses, jogging to keep up with him.

"You may ask whatever you like, but I have no reason to answer you," Loki replies off-handedly.

Jerk.

"Look. Please, Loki."

They both stop when she says his name. She watches his back tense up. Then, he slowly turns his upper body toward her in an arc that immediately reminds her of a snake. Even his expression is that of a serpent; calculating and tense. Ready. Jane can't tell whether or not he is outraged that she has spoken so informally, or if he turned because he can hear the desperation in her voice, but she has his attention, so she is rolling with it.

"I just want—I just _need _to know whether or not you plan on doing something to stop Malekith, or if you're just gonna run," she keeps her voice soft, because she is afraid to set him off. To give him a reason turn that rage she knows simmers inside him on her. Loki stares at her, and blinks once. Then, his eyes narrow shrewdly as he tilts his head, considering her. Jane tries not to make a face that would convey how awkward she feels, and instead pulls at the material of her blue dress while she watches him watch her.

When he finally speaks, it is more sibilant than a snake.

"You think me _craven_?" he hisses, his face contorting as he takes a step toward her.

Crap, oh crap!

"N-no!" she back paddles both verbally and physically, her hands up in surrender, "No, not at all! I just—shit," she covers her face with her hands again, rubbing her skin hard as she focuses on not crying. When she moves her hands, Loki's face is still set in a snarl, and his green eyes snap with magick.

"You have to understand," she tries, "A lot of lives are at stake, and at this point, only you and I can do anything to save them. I know you don't give a crap about the rest of the Realms, but your mother did—"

"You will _not_ speak of her!" Loki rages, his voice echoing, and the air becomes charged with something that feels like electricity but tastes like winter. It pinches and tugs at Jane's skin. Magick. His black, black hair seems to move with it; it stands slightly on end, and dances in the air. Jane is shocked by how striking he is, and is shocked that she hadn't noticed it before. Stark white skin, glittering frost and magick eyes, inky hair and aristocratic features all paired with something elemental and almost unsettling, but ultimately fascinating. He _is _fascinating, she realizes. And more powerful than she will ever understand.

And, presently, pissed off at her.

"I'm sorry, I am. She died saving me, and I can never reconcile for that. But I'm not wrong. Frigga," Loki's lips curl back, exposing his teeth at the mention his mother's name, so she hurries along, "Would have done _everything _in her power to save the Realms. She sacrificed herself so that millions could live, because that was who she was—is. A quiet hero. And somehow, I think you are more like her than you even know."

Please work, that's all she's got, please work, it has to work, please, _please_-

And slowly, slowly, his lip uncurls. And his brow smooths. His hair continues to writhe and crackle, but the air no longer feels so sharp. That look comes back to his face, that considering look, like he is trying to figure something out about her. He takes a step toward her, and she holds her ground.

"Truth be told, Miss Foster," he says slowly, almost warily, "I had no plans of running. Malekith and I have unfinished business."

The relief is euphoric. Jane exhales gustily, and grins dopily up at him. He raises a brow, but says nothing further. Then, he turns on his heel, and continues on his way to the cave.

But, not without a little wave of his hand to indicate that she is permitted to follow.

Grinning, she runs after him.

~/|\\\~

When they finally enter the cave, Jane immediately notices how different the air feels inside. It is colder, and damp, and it reminds her of something, but she can't quite put her finger on it.

"What are we doing here?"

Loki sighs, and oh yes, she is such a burden, boo hoo.

"There is a gap between worlds located in this cavern," he says like it's no big deal. Jane's eyes pop wide.

"Wait, really? How do you know?" she demands excitedly.

She thinks she hears him say, 'questions, always questions' under his breath, before he answers, "I just do."

"Can you feel the gravitational pull, or can you sense the dark matter, or—"

"Miss Foster, despite what you might believe, not everything can be explained with your science," Loki says sharply as he wanders around the cave. Jane pouts, but follows after him.

"Okay, fine, but how do you know?" she pushes, staring up at the stalactites that seem to burn internally with violet and crimson flames. Pretty. If only she could get a sample, then she could study them later and figure out whether or not they contain—

"It is best explained as a basic instinct, like the way a bird knows to fly south. My magickal core knows where to go, and what can I do but follow? Honestly, woman, do you never cease with your questions? How _does _Thor put up with you?" he smirks at her, and she can't tell for sure, but he might be acting playful. Teasing, yes, but harmlessly so.

Jane just grins shyly, and replies, "Well, he actually answers my questions, so clearly he deals with me just fine."

"I still find it surprising that my brother fell for a woman of intelligence."

"I take that as a compliment."

"As you should," Loki agrees, surprising her, "But I should warn you; you are in no way his ideal mate. He is better off with someone like Sif."

Wait… what?

"What are you—oof!" and she is on the ground. Classic Jane. What the hell did she trip over? She gets on her knees, and reaches behind her, and lifts up a—

"Oh my god."

It's a shoe. And they are everywhere, along with bottles and other miscellaneous objects that are so clearly from Earth, and Jane doesn't think she has ever been so happy. The car keys are even here.

"Loki, this gap goes to—"

Y_eah I got em, yeah I got em _

_Don't worry 'cause I got em…_

Never has that stupid, obnoxious rap song sounded more like the hallelujah chorus. Jane digs around in the many folds of her dress for her phone.

"What_ is_ that horrible racket?" Loki's frown is priceless, and if less were at stake, Jane would be laughing. As it were, she has a call to answer.

"This is amazing," she tells him, smiling giddily, "I get service here! We must be close! This is amazing!"

Loki gives her a look that a disgruntled parent might give their wayward child, and says, "We do not have time for your frivolous—"

"Shush! I'm on the phone!" she frowns at him, holding her finger up. Loki looks personally insulted, and is about to argue when she presses the answer button.

"Hello?"

"Jane!"

Holy crap, its Richard.

"Richard! Oh my god, this is amazing!"

"Really?" On the other end Richard sounds pleased but still a little static-y. Jane nearly jumps up and down with excitement, and then starts wandering around the cave, trying to find the place that the signal is strongest. She motion for Loki to follow her as she keeps Richard talking. Loki rolls his eyes, but follows her.

"It's this way," she says to Loki, who looks thoroughly unimpressed, "No, no not you Richard. Keep talking though. Yeah, sure, the date was… yeah…" she trails off distractedly.

She and Loki walk side by side, avoiding the shoes as Richard talks on and on. As they venture deeper, it gets darker and darker, and Jane is violently reminded of the Aether and how it seemed to suffocate her with its internal darkness. She reaches out blindly, trying to grab onto anything, anything to keep her grounded and real. And what she finds is Loki's hand, which is cold and smooth and startling—

He yanks it away from her with a disgruntled sound, and her apology is wobbly. She hears Loki sigh, and then long fingers snag her wrist, and pull her gently along as Richard continues to yak in her ear. Then, the light comes at them suddenly and all at once. When her eyes adjust, Jane squeals with delight. They are back in Greenwich, and it hasn't been filled with darkness yet. It's still raining, but no darkness here, no sir.

"Jane, uh, Jane? You still there?" Richard, right.

"Oh, um, hey can I call you later, I got to go." And she hangs up. She looks around, and spots her car, and begins to dash toward it, only for her to be yanked back. She looks down and realizes Loki's hand is still gently holding her wrist. She looks at him with wide eyes as he takes in their new surroundings.

"This is not New York," he comments, blinking distastefully at the rain.

"Well, no. This is Greenwich. In England."

Loki nods, then says, "I do not like it."

Jane giggles, maybe a little manically, and Loki looks questioningly down at her.

"We need to get in my car."

"Why?"

"So I can drive us to my apartment, so we can—"

"I can transport us."

"I doubt that. You don't know where it is, and I assume you can't travel somewhere you can't see, or have never been to. Besides, didn't you say you could only manage illusions right now?"

The look he gives her is mingled contempt and admiration, and Jane preens, and then jingles the keys happily.

Loki just rolls his eyes again.

Loki has to bend quite a bit to get into the car, and she can tell that the royal part of him, something Jane is pretty sure doesn't just go away, is scandalized by such a barbaric mode of transportation. Jane is laughing for most of the way to her apartment, but true to form, Loki has the last word.

"So, who is Richard, and does Thor know about him?"

Jane stops laughing, and gives him a look. His grin is far too wide for her liking, and she would like nothing better than to hit him. Again.

"Shut up, Loki."

"Oh, dear me, Miss Foster, dear me."

"Shut up!"

~/|\\\~

It's when they arrive at the apartment that Jane's happy adrenaline wears off. Darcy is up there, and so is her intern. All puny mortals, and Loki would have no issue exercising his alien voodoo on them.

Not to mention if Erik shows up. That would be super duper bad. Ah crap, what is she going to do?

Loki must sense her apprehension because he is smiling in a way that is far too pleased.

"You can't do anything bad in my apartment," Jane warns, and is given a 'who, me?' look in return that is almost convincing, but this is Loki we're talking about.

"Seriously, my friends are up there, and Erik might be there."

"Doctor Selvig," his voice slide over the syllables, smiling with a mock fondness that is sharp and almost carnivorous. Jane is tempted to say 'bad Loki' and flick him on the nose, but controls herself.

"We need him," and when he raises that freaking eyebrow again, she explains, "He is like the only person besides you and I that knows what is going to happen with the Convergence. We really, really need him. Oh, and my equipment," she adds for good measure. Loki considers her with half closed eyes and a quirked mouth for a moment, then holds his hand up.

"I swear not to intentionally terrorize any of your mortals," he pledges solemnly, but his eyes glitter mischievously.

"Including Erik," Jane affirms insistently.

Loki's eyes only sharpen with amusement as he replies silkily, "Including Erik. You have my word. Although, I do not know what you, your teacher, or your equipment could possibly do to stop Malekith."

"Well, if you cooperate nicely, I'm sure we can explain."

"That remains to be seen."

"Shut up and get out of the car."

"Are all mortals this rude?"

Jane groans as she leads him up the staircase to her apartment. She is going to regret this.

~/|\\\~

This is how the evening starts.

Loki and Jane enter the apartment, and joy, Erik is indeed there, and for some reason he is pant-less. He takes one look at Loki, utters a half choked battle cry and pounces at him.

It takes Jane, Darcy and Ian all together to hold him down while Loki laughs so hard that he has to slump against the wall to keep himself standing. Jane takes Erik to another room, and the betrayal written on his face makes Jane feel like she is suffocating, but she pushes past it, because there is more at stake than being able to breathe.

"Erik, listen to me carefully," she takes his face in her hands and looks him in the eye, her voice soft, and Erik's eyes stop rolling around in his panicked face to look at her.

"Erik, I am not excusing what he did to you. What Loki," Erik flinches violently, and Jane is forcefully reminded that Loki is not a good man, but that right now they need him, "What Loki did was awful, and it was wrong and he deserves all of our anger. I'm not telling you to forgive him, or even trust him, but I'm telling you that we need his help. We can't stop the dark elves without him. I promise you, I won't let him hurt you, and that I will do everything in my power to make sure he answers for how much he hurt you, but right now you need to civil, and you need to be lucid. Can you do that for me? Please, Erik?"

And then he looks at her with eyes that are so loving and intelligent, the same way he looked at her when he was teaching her about the constellations, and Jane is filled with so much love. He takes her hand in his, and nods, and Jane hugs him tight so he knows she won't be letting him go anytime soon.

~/|\\\~

The rest of the evening goes like this.

Erik sits as far away as Loki as possible, and refuses to take off an aluminum hat he designed himself that apparently deflects magic. He never stops glaring at Loki, who smiles contentedly the entire time

Darcy simply gawks at Loki, unsure what to do with her hormones. Turned on or scared, turned on our scared? Decisions, decisions.

Ian is mostly confused. He stares back and forth between Jane and Loki, trying to keep up and trying not to be scared.

Jane explains how her equipment works, and tries not to look too flustered or pleased when Loki stares at her with grudging admiration. He thinks her equipment is genius, if a little unsophisticated. But hey, she'll take whatever compliments he'll give.

And so, a plan is formed.

Much, much later, Loki ends up on the couch, and Jane ends up tweaking her equipment for most of the evening, too wired and afraid to go to sleep. While she works, she can feel Loki's clever eyes on her, and for some reason it makes her warm and cold at the same time. So she tries to ignore him, it isn't easy. She has more questions for him; but not ones she wants to know the answers to. And yet, she feels like Loki wants her to ask them, she can feel the way his eyes are on her, daring her to speak.

And because the world is going to end maybe, she takes the dare.

"Loki?" she calls quietly, but she doesn't look at him.

"Miss Foster?" she can hear the smile in his voice.

"What did you mean earlier? About Thor and I?"

"I'm sorry, I believe you must refresh my memory."

No she doesn't. He knows exactly what she is talking about; he just wants to hear her say it.

"That we… That we aren't well suited or something. That he is supposed to be with someone more like, well, more like Sif," Beautiful, vibrant Sif. Jane had wondered about her. Wondered about her relationship with Thor, and the way Sif looked at her, like she was assessing an opponent and found them lacking. Sif makes her feel plain and small.

There is a moment of quiet while Jane tinkers away, and it is not uncomfortable, but Jane wants the answer. She glances over her shoulder to look at Loki, but the couch is empty. Where did he—

"Miss Foster."

"Oh my God!" When did he get there, when did get up and sit down at the table across from her? How can he possibly move so quietly? Loki smirks slowly as she steadies her breathing, and she glowers at him while she presses her hand to her chest.

"Don't do that!" she whispers fiercely, leaning toward him and pointing at him accusingly. He hides his smirk expertly and tips his head in way Jane can only assume is a fake apology. But she takes it.

"Would you still like me to answer your question?" he inquires, leaning back in the chair lazily. He steeples his hands under his chin and gazes at her calmly. Jane thinks she should be unnerved by him, but all she feels is curiosity, and it makes her wonder about herself.

"I—Well, yes I guess, I mean I suppose," she frowns at herself, looking away to tinker roughly at her equipment, "I just—I'm not gonna like the answer, am I?"

"That is likely, yes."

She looks up at him with guileless brown eyes, and asks, "But just because I won't like the answer, does that mean I shouldn't know?"

Loki considers her words, and then leans toward her with his palms flat against the table, and his brow raised expectantly.

"Some would rather live in ignorance, but you are not that sort, are you? No, you need to know, you always have. You need to know about the stars, the world, the universe. You are unquenchable in your search for knowledge," he looks almost… proud of her. How should that make her feel? The man, or god, or alien, or whatever he is, he tried to take over her world, has tried to kill her kind-of-boyfriend several times and enslaved her father figure and mentor. What does that say about her, that he kind of admires her, and that she kind of likes it?

"You're right," she nods, and it's strange that in so short a time he knows her so well, "I need to know. So tell me, why won't Thor and I work out?"

"To put it plainly, Thor is far too simple and you are far too clever," Loki spreads his hand in a "that's that" expression, but Jane needs more.

"Thor isn't simple. He is worldly and—"

"If one considers going from realm to realm fighting, drinking and wenching worldly, rather than learning of its people and cultures, than yes, Thor is worldly," Loki retorts sharply. Jane immediately comes to his defense.

"I'm sure that isn't true—"

"Ah yes, but you have not known Thor as long as I. I feel in this situation, you must simply take my word for it."

"God of Lies," she reminds him pointedly, and he smiles broadly.

"True, true, but believe me on this. Thor would suit you ill, and you him," then his expression turns almost soft, "It is not because you are not worthy, or in anyway lacking, but because you and Thor are far too different, and are meant for different paths. He will be a warrior king, and you will be—"

"In a lab for the rest of my life?" she interrupts with a mirthless laugh, but it is stopped by the look Loki gives her. Something new is in those pale green eyes, and she is unsure whether or not she should flee, or come closer. He reaches out and brings his fingertips to her face in the barest, softest of touches. She doesn't pull away.

"No, you will be an adventurer, Jane."

Her name, he said her name.

"Thor cannot have you," says Loki with snapping, bewitching magick eyes, "Because he cannot keep up with you."

Jane swallows thickly, and closes her mouth forcefully, because she has one more question, but she can't ask it. So she tells Loki that she should get some sleep, and that he will need some too. He agrees, and she can feel his eyes on her back as she fast walks to her room.

The last question was: _then who can keep up with me?_

And Loki was right. Sometimes, it is better not to know the answer.

~/|\\\~

The day of the Convergence doesn't go exactly according to plan. A lot of buildings get wrecked, several people get hurt, and Jane almost dies several times.

Plus, there is Thor, who somehow managed to break free of the dark elves last minute, and who doesn't know the plan, and very nearly messed everything up. Luckily, with combined efforts from Jane and Loki, it does not erupt into chaos. Thor fights Kurse while Loki engages Malekith. Jane notices that he is fighting with what looks a blue box, and it shoots deadly ice against the Aether, and they seem to be equally matched. Ice and darkness. Who knew? Jane, Darcy and Ian set up her equipment and with Erik's help, they manipulate the gaps and send the bad guys hurtling through space or wherever it sends them. At the same time, Loki and Thor often get caught in the gaps too, brawling all through the Realms and ending up in some very strange places, including the subway.

In the end, Thor defeats Kurse, and Loki ends up stabbing Malekith with a piece of Jane's equipment, which scatters his body all over the Realms. What happens to Aether, she is unsure, but she thinks she sees Loki holding something red and pulsing in his hands before it blinks out of existence. The rest of the dark elves are banished to some barren moon, and huzzah, they win! Now all she wants to do is sleep. Darcy and Ian pop out of nowhere, and surprise surprise they are sucking face. Jane smiles tiredly, then sits down on a partly destroyed step, watching as the portals close themselves. The Convergence is finished.

The world is safe again, for now at least.

"Jane!"

Oh, Thor, sweet, good Thor. He rushes forward and scoops her up, twirling her. They laugh and press their mouths together, then laugh some more. Loki's words ring in her head, but she doesn't care, he's here, he's safe. He sets her down and she searches his face to see how injured he is. Scrapes and bruises, that's all, thank Jesus.

"I thought I lost you again," Jane whispers, touching the side of his face to make sure he is real.

Thor chuckles happily and kisses her forehead, "You will not be rid of me so easily, Jane. Perhaps now I can take you to Asgard on happier circumstances."

Jane's smile thins, but she doesn't tell him that in all honesty, she has no wish to return. She feels too guilty over the death of Thor's mother, still feels the raw hurt of Odin's disapproval and maybe, she thinks, their worlds are apart for a reason. She doesn't allow herself to think, however, that Sif will be there, and that maybe Loki's words have some merit. She instead thinks that she might love Thor, and for now that is enough.

And now is not the time for sad thoughts, they won, so she should be happy. So she kisses Thor again and he tastes like sunlight—

"While I hate to interrupt, there are still pressing matters that need to be dealt with," Loki's bland drawl pulls Jane from her Thor-kiss-euphoria. She and Thor pull apart, then turn to see Loki standing some feet away, looking around at the destruction with a bored expression on his battered face. His pale face sports new bruises and cuts, worse than Thor's but still, not as bad as Jane had feared.

_Feared?_

"Yes," Thor straightens, regaining his regal exposure, "Yes, we must return to Asgard, to rebuild what has been ruined, and to face our punishment for crimes against the crown."

"Mmm, yes, but Odin has always been extremely lenient with you. I do not believe he will be so wrathful now that you have saved the Realms. Again. I, on the other hand, am ever at the receiving end of his wrath," his smile is a dagger and it hurts to look at, and his voice is poison, and it's hard to hear. Why does he have to ruin everything?

Thor takes an aggressive step toward Loki, who looks totally unaffected, then says, "And you, brother, have a cell that awaits you."

And for some reason, Jane wants to argue, because, hey, he saved, like, everyone. But she keeps her mouth closed, because for all the good Loki has done today, he still has done a whole lot of bad.

Loki's smile grows, twisting his face into something mad, and maybe it's just Jane, but a little bit sad. He takes step back, his eyes trained on Thor's face.

"Ah, yes. About that," he says, his voice filled with impish glee, "That really does sound rather dull…"

"Loki," Thor warns low, striding toward him while Mjölnir hums in anticipation.

"…And now the Realms are safe, and Frigga avenged," Loki continues, and Jane feels the familiar crackle of magick in the air, so she opens her mouth, but Loki's eyes slice into hers, and her voice can't find its way to her mouth.

"Therefore, I believe I will take my leave of you. Tell Odin I wish him ill, as per usual," Loki laughs, exhilarated, while Thor hurls his hammer at him, and it whistles through the air, then shatters Loki's illusion into a million golden sparks.

He appears behind Jane, and before she can stop him, he takes her hand, bows low, and places his cold, smirking lips to her skin.

"It was a pleasure, _my lady _Jane," and his eyes spark knowingly.

"I thought you could only manage illusions?" Jane accuses, and Loki winks rakishly at her, giving her hand one more kiss. Thor roars, and charges, but Loki laughs again, then spins away, disappearing again. He pops up some yards away, and calls,

"I will see you soon, never fear!" And he blinks out of existence.

Later, Jane will question whether or not Loki said that to Thor, or to her.

**What can I say, I like open endings. Don't worry, they won't all be like that.**

**Just a quick end note. I apologize if the battle scene, or lack thereof, seemed rushed, but I am awful at action scenes, so I decided to spare you from some very horrid descriptions of battles. I will work on my action sequences, but I wanted this to be mostly about Jane and Loki's relationship. **

**Also, for future reference, I will have you know I love Thor as a character, so if I ever portray him negatively, it is only for the story's sake, not for bashing. That said, I greatly dislike Sif, but I will not bash her, because I find that childish.**

**Anyway, expect that the next time this story will be rated M, because I really wanna write some Lokane smut.**

**So, review if you have the time or energy. Thanks for reading and enjoy your day.**

_**linnie **_


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